


face to face (and a thousand miles apart)

by shadowlancer_95



Series: The Umbrella Academy For Excellent Parenting [4]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Introspection, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, M/M, Spoilers for Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25687159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowlancer_95/pseuds/shadowlancer_95
Summary: His strides were long, and shaky as he stumbled through the darkness, relying on the barest threads of memory to Allison’s house. The cut on his lip stung in the cold night air, his throbbing cheekbone a mere shadow of the agony in the hollow cavity where his heart used to be.Or,Klaus, after his second (and most disastrous) meeting with Dave.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Dave/Klaus Hargreeves
Series: The Umbrella Academy For Excellent Parenting [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1288325
Comments: 14
Kudos: 495





	face to face (and a thousand miles apart)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Been waiting my whole life for season 2 to drop and my god, every scene with Dave and Klaus in S2 just about shattered my heart into a million pieces. Gdi I was expecting some mention of their relationship given that Klaus is in the 60s but that was not what I expected at all. :((( 
> 
> I'm not done with the season just yet (because life is a bitch and work demands attention) but I thought I'd post a little something. 
> 
> This fic is set after diner scene (yes THAT scene where Dave hits Klaus and fuck if that doesn't make me want to cry just typing that...) and before the scene where Dave comes to find Klaus at his cult-house. Just thought I'd do a little introspection fic on what went on in Klaus' mind as he threw sobriety down the drain. 
> 
> (Also I am just a little salty that Ben called their relationship a fling. I get that he probably doesn't know about what really happened in Vietnam but damn it I hated that.)
> 
> Either way, its a short fic so do enjoy! :))
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own TUA, or Klaus would be happy and nothing would hurt (I can't even say Dave will be alive because he technically is)

The liquor burns a trail of searing heat down his throat. It’s a familiar pain, though one that had been absent in the past three years. The alcohol works it’s magic – like it always does – and the bright, stark colors of the world becomes muted, the sharp, jagged edges of reality dulled by the alcohol seeping into his bloodstream. The last three years had been great. Accidental cult aside, it had been freeing in a way he hadn’t ever known. Nobody here knew him. There were no hushed whispers as he stumbled down the street, swerving left and right in order to avoid the ghosts that only he could see. There were no muttered comments of his name – of the Academy’s name – as he walked past them, their lips twisted into disappointed frowns and their bodies shifting away from his like he was trash. No one here looked at him with disgust for failing to live up to the expectations of a hero. 

Forming a cult hadn’t been his intention. He’d only wanted to find a way to earn some cash to help him survive the 60s (because he didn’t know if the rest of his family were dead, or if they were stranded through time but it was not like _he_ could do anything about it –) but one thing had led to another and everything had spiralled so out of control that by the time the first believer walked up to him and bowed reverently, he was already in too deep.

Still, despite the scams (he wants to laugh at the thought of these people finding out about the song lyrics a few decades down the road), he liked to think that he’d helped people – and yeah maybe it was so he could help himself in return but that’s fine because life wasn’t free alright? – and he’d helped them come to realizations that he wished someone had given to him longer before life fucked him up so badly.

It’s one of the things Ben doesn’t understand. Maybe it’s because he’s been stuck to him all this time, stuck watching as he made one wrong choice after the other, dancing precariously on the border between life and death. Maybe it’s because he died too young, never had the chance to experience life outside of missions and the Academy. Either way, Ben doesn’t know what it’s like to have a choice – to choose which way his life went, never mind if it was being thrown into the gutter. And yeah, if Klaus had been a more magnanimous person, someone more compassionate and less selfish, perhaps he would have listened to Ben more often and stop putting all forms of poison into his veins.

Klaus had never had a choice in seeing the ghosts.

From the moment his powers kicked in, their horrifying spectres had haunted him at all hours of the day, had screamed their anger and misery at him, begging him with bloodied mouths and dismembered bodies to help them. He’s never had a choice in using his powers – not like the rest of his siblings. They thought that _he_ conjured the ghosts (as if he’s ever had a choice to tell them to come and go), and maybe it’s his fault for never clearing that up but he can only laugh every time someone tells him to ‘just tell them to go away’ as he stares at the screaming crowd around him.

Ben doesn’t understand why he did drugs. Not all of it. It was for the ghosts sure, but it was also a decision that he’d made, a choice that was his and _his_ alone. It wasn’t an order from old Reggie, it wasn’t the powers that he’d never wanted, and it wasn’t the ghosts who wouldn’t leave him alone for a single second of silence. It was _his_ choice. A tiny form of control that he had over his life and a big fuck you to dear old dad. (He’s never told Ben, but the prospect of actually dying, of taking that dose too far and never coming back the right way – it seemed like a blessing to him.)

So he told his followers, gave them nuggets of wisdom interspersed between the lyrics of his favourite songs. He told them to shed the expectations that others placed on them, to live life as freely as they wanted, love whoever they wanted. He told them to cherish the people they held dear, but drop the ones who wanted to mould them into something they weren’t.

He repeated to them what Dave had told him once upon a time in the sweltering heat of the jungle, surrounded by buzzing flies and the thick stench of blood. 

He takes a long swig from the bottle, the chill of the cold glass drawing him back to the present. Distantly, he’s aware of Ben’s disapproving glare boring into his back. Unlike the other times, he ignores it. Well, he had ignored Ben before, but not like this. Because Ben didn’t understand. Because as much as his brother tried his best to keep him on track – and yes, he _was_ grateful for all the times he’d looked out for him, recent poker game notwithstanding – there were things Ben didn’t understand.

_Vietnam fling_ , he’d called it.

Klaus would never admit how those two simple words had all but ripped his heart right out of his chest.

Seeing Dave – bright, happy Dave, surrounded by cans of paint and untouched by the darkness of war and death – had felt simultaneously like taking a breath of air after drowning and stepping barefoot into a pile of shattered glass. It had taken every ounce of non-existent willpower to push back the tears that threatened to fall the moment their eyes met. It had taken _every_ drop of strength he had in his body to force himself to smile, to let the words form in his mouth and talk like nothing had happened. Like they hadn’t shared countless nights together under the dark blanket of Vietnam sky, like they hadn’t curled around each other as much as they dared with only the stars as witnesses, like they hadn’t danced and laughed and bled and cried together.

Every second spent looking at Dave – this energetic, happy young kid – staring back at him with no recognition behind those sweet hazel eyes felt like a knife slowly dragging its blade across his chest, scraping bone and muscle until everything was hollowed out.

Vietnam _fling_.

He scoffed, coughing violently as he choked, the burning in his nose and throat a perfect cover up for the tears welling up in his eyes. Dave was more than a fling to him. He was the only person who never judged him, who looked at him – when he was broken and bleeding, when he was high on drugs smuggled in, when he was all awkward grins and babbling – and never had anything other than sympathy and love. He was the only person who had ever accepted all of Klaus – ghosts, scars and all – and loved him anyway. He was in _no way_ a fling, and it made something in him pulse and writhe and _burn_ that Ben would dare to call it as such.

The casual one night stands he’d had in the past were flings. The osso buco guy he’d lived with for three weeks had been a fling. To call Dave something so – so _cheap_ and _demeaning_ , it was beyond insulting.

Of course, he hadn’t actually told Ben everything that had happened in his little jaunt to the past, so his brother’s little comment could be forgiven but –

But then Dave punched him.

On the order of his homophobic uncle.

It – it _hurt_.

Not his split lip, or the throbbing cheekbone. No, he didn’t care about that.

Dave had hit him.

_Dave_ , had hit _him_.

It wasn’t his Dave, he had to remind himself. _His_ Dave would never have hit him, would never have raised a hand against him even in the deepest fits of anger.

But –

It was his face. It was his eyes, full of confusion at this stranger who came in blurting out strange facts about his life and confessing in front of a diner full of random men and women. It was _still_ Dave, who threw that punch.

Klaus still remembered the time Arnold had made fun of him for being a fairy, for jumping at the moving shadows and at any slight noise that echoed in the dead of night. Dave had gotten in front of him, had shouted back words that Klaus hadn’t been able to process and – when Arnold just sneered at him and spat out more insults – swung a fist straight at the other man’s cheek.

Well, he now knew why Arnold had backed off then.

Klaus tilted the bottle upwards, swallowing copious amounts of liquid, some of it splashing across his chest and drenching his shirt. Ben walked behind him, hands in his pocket and glowering at his back.

The Séance couldn’t care less. Ben could harp on him for all he cared but – he was _done_.

Everything he’d done in the last three years – the things he’d gone through, the painstaking efforts of building a life for himself even if it was one built on lies and fraud, the pain of staying sober enough that Ben could touch things even though the thought of all the other ghosts _touching_ him threatened to send him into a spiralling madness he could barely stay abreast of – had been for this single moment. He’d told himself that it didn’t matter if Dave didn’t know who he was. He’d forced himself to smile through the pain of that familiar face staring back into his with nothing more than the usual customer smile plastered across it. He’d forced himself to push through the shards of glass lodged in his throat and speak as normally as he could even when all he wanted was to fling his arms around Dave and hug him until he knew nothing else. To bury himself in that strong, steady embrace and never leave until the end of the world tore them apart.

He had expected the confusion and the lack of recognition. _That_ he could deal with.

His strides were long, and shaky as he stumbled through the darkness, relying on the barest threads of memory to Allison’s house. The cut on his lip stung in the cold night air, his throbbing cheekbone a mere shadow of the agony in the hollow cavity where his heart used to be.

Dave had been dead for over three years – for him – but he’d never _really_ felt like he was gone.

Not until now.

(He supposed Ben was right after all, he shouldn’t have gotten himself involved.)

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a review on your way out! 
> 
> You can come find me on tumblr at @shadowsofmoonracer! :))
> 
> I will probably write more once I'm done with the show because let me tell y'all I am so not happy with how flippant everyone treated Klaus thus far :(( (All the comments about him being high etc when in fact he was sober for three years until everything went to shit)


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